


Silence

by ErosIsYourNewBestFriend



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Character Death, F/M, Fingerfucking, Mind Control, Tentacle Rape, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 19:42:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13818114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErosIsYourNewBestFriend/pseuds/ErosIsYourNewBestFriend
Summary: Every action has consequences. Rire is eager to teach him exactly why sitting on the King's throne is a bad idea.





	Silence

**Author's Note:**

> This is a MASSIVE extension on the tumblr post below because the idea just wouldn't get out of my head. Please read tags for content warnings and don't use this fic to hurt yourself! I wrote this for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> https://rireslittleplaythings.tumblr.com/post/170954664682/rire-what-would-you-do-if-i-sat-on-your-throne

"You know, there are other places you could be sitting."

Yellow eyes bore into Edgar. The air hangs heavily between them, a cloying presence in the distance keeping them seperate, and it's almost scary how quickly Edgar is put on edge. There's nothing hidden in Rire's gaze - his sly grin unshaken as his dress shoes clack against the marble floor. Then he stops, and the air is silent again.

Edgar takes a moment to breathe before he finally speaks. His lungs don't seem to want to cooperate.

"Actually, I think a throne suits me rather well." He leans back in the chair, trying to appear relaxed through the mad beating in his chest. "Don't you think?"

"Mmm, perhaps a little  _too_ well." Rire, still smiling, reaches over to a desk top and pulls out a key. From Edgar's limited gaze, it's hard to make out what he's doing. The air is even heavier with the sound of his chest hammering. Rire turns back moments later, a crown held loosely between his fingertips. "But it's missing a finishing touch."

Edgar freezes up, his heart beating in uncomfortable thumps. Something feels wrong, as if the crown marks a kind of shift. But... He doesn't want to get up. It's a weird mixture of relaxed and terrified, at ease and tense, scared and exhilarated. He doesn't protest when the crown was delicately placed on his head. It's a lot heavier than he imagined; he struggles to move under the sheer weight of it.

Rire raises an eyebrow at him, clearly amused. "Too heavy?"

Edgar shakes his head on instinct, sitting up a little straighter.

"Good." Rire brings a hand up to Edgar's cheek and runs his thumb idly across it.

Edgar wants to push him away. He doesn't.

"It was brave of you to come here." Rire says with a light tone. "Foolish, but... Brave. I might even admire you for it."

"I've been told they're my best qualities." Carefully, Edgar pushes himself to his feet, but Rire forces his back down in a quick movement. There's a laugh that echoes around the room, and Edgar feels so drowned in his own chest that he can only guess it came from Rire. The air still has that fogginess to it, that subtle heaviness that makes every breath difficult.

"Tell me, human-"

"Edgar." He leans away from Rire almost rebelliously.

Rire hums happily. " _Edgar,_ do you enjoy games?" His voice drops lower, making Edgar shiver involuntarily. When he doesn't respond, Rire continues. "Because I've got a tricky little dilemma that I've been hoping you'd sort out. You are the king after all," a grin, dark and menacing, "right?"

He purses his lips. The silence hangs heavy between them.

Then there's footsteps. Light ones.

Rire leans back, as if remembering something. "I suppose we'll have to see how you manage."

A small boy bursts into the room, panting and shaking. He looks as though he's about ready to collapse from exhaustion, and Edger idly wonders what kind of conditions Rire keeps his staff in. Would they be given nice rooms? Comfy chairs? "Your Majesty-"

"Bring them in." Rire turns back to the boy and grins sharply, his teeth bared.

The boy yelps in surprise and runs back out, suddenly unaffected by his shortness of breath. Maybe Rire just inspired that kind of terror. Edgar could certainly see why.

Rire turns back to Edgar with that same grin, yellow eyes shining with something akin to mischief. It should have unsettled him.

Two seconds later, and the hall is filled with muffled screams as two body bags get hauled into the throne room. Edgar stares, transfixed. The demon drops them to the ground, the smack of something hard hitting the marble floor echoing over the screams. Rire's sighs in contentment, nodding over to the demon. "Open them."

The bags start unzipping with haste. Kicking feet pop out, tied at the ankles. Then legs, arms and torso, and finally a head, gagged tightly at the mouth. The second bag, or rather, the person inside, gets the same treatment. The screams are less muffled now, but Edgar can hardly hear it over the sounds of blood pounding in his ears. His head aches from the weight of it, screaming and kicking with his body cold and still.

The world is an endless stream of noise, and Edgar is drowning in the mass of it.

Rire looks down at the two, that little smile back at full force. A man and a woman. The man looks about nineteen, scrawny with blonde hair and pale skin. The woman, on the other hand, looks around thirty-something with masses of brown hair hiding a large proportion of her face. Their eyes look back at him, staring in apprehension. Their screams won't do anything now, and they know it. Edgar knows it, too.

His heart skyrockets again. Nothing Rire is doing makes sense. Is this a punishment? A twisted reward? His stomach twists at the thought.

"Get them on their knees for their King." Rire says, giving the demon a deliberate look. 

The demon nods and drags the bodies up, careful not to undo to ties on their arms and legs. They kneel before the throne, eyes darting between Edgar and Rire, like they're unsure who's really in charge.

Not that there's any doubt in Edgar's mind. He may be the one in the crown, but Rire's still standing tall, still carries his body with grace, authority practically gleaming out of him.

Rire's voice cuts through the haze. "You may leave."

Edgar blinks and stands slowly, unsure if he heard that right.

A quick force tugs him back, and something thick and black is coiling tightly around his waist. He tugs, but to no avail. It squeezes around him, quite capable of tightening to dangerous levels if it wanted to. Not that Edgar's even sure what "it" is.

"Not you." Rire snaps, suddenly a little impatient. He turns to the demon. "Well?"

The demon quickly exits the room, leaving Rire and Edgar alone with the two bodies kneeling in front of them.

Rire's steps click on the floor as he walks up behind the two, yanking them both by the hair. It's then that Edgar can see the full extent of the black tentacle-like things, leading from the throne into Rire's back. It's hard to see where they end and his back begins. Edgar doesn't have time to question it.

"How are you with decisions, My Liege?" Rire leans in close to one of them and grins, his voice humming close to the woman's ear. "Pick which one I let go."

Edgar stares in wide eyed horror as the two start thrashing to get free, only held upright by Rire's tentacles around their waists and throats. The screams are loud and desperate again, only this time Edgar feels the weight of them from where he sits. The noise in his head is back again, screaming and kicking and Edgar just wants to leave, just wants to take back everything he's done but he  _can't_ and he can't breathe right-

"Can't pick?" Rire chuckles and tightens his grip on them, clearly content in his little game. "Well, I suppose if you can't decide, I'll take them both."

Edgar speaks without thinking. "The boy!" He pants breathlessly, blood rushing under his skin.

The woman screams louder, tears forming in her eyes. Rire ignores it, licking his lips. "The boy?"

Edgar doesn't respond, still panting.

Rire seems satisfied enough with the answer. "I'll deal with him second then." He yanks the gag off the woman, the screams suddenly louder.

"I have a kid! She's only six, just  _please,_ I want- I want to see my child!" She's gasping through sobs. 

Rire simply tuts. "Hush, I've got something special planned for you." He glances up at Edgar. "Something very special, in fact."

Edgar can barely breathe. He wants to shut his eyes, wants to block out the sounds and touches, but his eyes are drawn to the way Rire forces her legs open. Rire's hand runs up her thigh slowly, fingertips brushing just under her skirt. 

"Let me g-mmph!" She's cut off abruptly as a tentacle forces its way into her mouth, plunging inside while she whines and squirms.

"Want a turn?" Rire says passively to Edgar, hand trailing further up her skirt, tracing the hem of her underwear with a delicate finger. She twitches in fear.

Edgar glances over to the boy, who's watching the scene in abject horror. His eyes are ablaze, desperately trying to free himself from the ties binding him in place.

"Ahem." Rire's voice is sharp. Something about it compels Edgar to look back at the girl Rire's touching. "Am I boring you?"

Edgar sits there, shaking. He can't even bring himself to speak.

"I suppose we'll have to hurry things along then." In one swift movement, Rire yanks her underwear down and pumps two fingers inside her, watching as tears stain her face. It crumples in an effort to ignore the motions of Rire's fingers, rough and brutal within her. Her thighs are shaking between her sobs.

Slowly, the tentacles wrap tighter around Edgar's body, drawing him back to reality. He wriggles in their grasp, the crown slipping from his head a little.

A tentacle joins Rire's fingers, pushing their way inside her while she pants and whimpers. Edgar can't tear his eyes away. He wants to move, wants to cry out, but his brain won't let him. The woman tries to close her legs, but Rire has a firm hand spreading them wide and it's almost impossible.

"How pretty." He leans down to get a better look at her, smirking. "You look so  _stretched._ "

She whines louder and shifts away from him, only to be dragged closer.

"I wonder how much I can stretch you." Rire quietly muses, just loud enough for Edgar to hear from where he's sat.

Two more tentacles try to force their way inside her, brushing up against her clit as squirms away. She cries out when one of them breaches her, squeezing her eyes shut from the pain. There's a quiet squelch and Edgar can't tell whether it's blood or if her body is responding to him. Either way, the sound makes his bones shiver and he thrashes in the tentacle's grip.

"Get off her!"

All eyes fall on Edgar. The air is silent for just a moment. He can't quite believe what came out of his mouth.

Rire pauses in his ministrations to look at Edgar. "Hmm..." He smiles. "I think our King deserves front row seats."

Edgar is lifted up from the chair and pulled towards Rire almost eagerly, falling to his knees in front of them. The tentacles make sure to hold the crown firmly to his head, his arms wrapped up tightly behind his back.

"That's much better." Rire smiles and curls his fingers up just right, watching how the woman jolts and pants.

Edgar looks down at her spread legs, dripping wet and stained red with her blood. His mouth falls open at the sight and he feels immediately guilty for looking, but finds he can't tear his eyes away. His mind is still cloudy and the noise is back, but it's softer now, lulling him in.

Rire pulls his fingers out and presents them to the woman's mouth, shoving it in beside the tentacle. It's a tight fit, but he manages to push them inside while she whimpers.

"I bet you taste wonderful, darling."

Edgar does too. She can probably feel the tang of iron in her mouth, the sweet taste of her own wetness mixed with a trickle of hot blood. He has a sudden thought that he;d want to be in her place, fucked and sore and  _bleeding-_

Edgar blinks. No, that isn't right. He feels bad. He remembers feeling bad. So why now does he desperately ache to see what Rire does next?

He doesn't have time to think too hard about it. She's screaming much louder now as the two- no,  _three_ tentacles slip in deeper, probably curling up into her stomach as she begs through gasps for air. It's too much, far too much, and just as she looks as though she'll pass out, something sharp forces its way out of her stomach and she screams nonsensically. A beat of tension. Her gaze looses focus. Her head gets droopy. She's still alive and squirming with her last few pulls at life.

Then nothing. The air is silent once again.

Edgar can't pull his eyes away from her. His body aches from staying kneeling on the floor for so long, and his eyes are burning through his unblinking stare. But he stares. And pants. And lets his chest heave with every breath.

Rire stands and walks over to the boy, who's now trembling with the same fear that the woman must have felt.

A gag gets pulled out, and Edgar listens to their conversation while he watches the blood seep from the woman's stomach, the tentacles finally unsheathing themselves from the last warmth of her body.

"It's your turn. Are you excited?"

"No, don't, please-!"

"Relax. I'm going to let you go."

"R-Really? Oh God, thank you! Thank you-"

"For what? It's not like it's hard for me. I probably won't even remember this." A huff of a laugh from Rire. "You're so _useless_."

Tentacles uncoiling. Sharp breathes.

"WAIT STOP-"

A squelch, a choked off cry, and then... Nothing. Silence.

"Well, that was dramatic." Rire brushes down his suit and then walks back over to Edgar, shoes tapping the marble floor. It's hypnotic. Edgar doesn't move, lightly shaking, the crown slipping to the floor with a loud clang.

A hand pulls Edgar's chin towards Rire, and he's forced to stare into those yellow eyes.

"Oh, pet," Rire grins, his teeth bared like a predator's, "I'm barely getting started."


End file.
